A Natural Ninth For Navratilova

July 08, 1990|By Bernie Lincicome, Chicago Tribune.

LONDON — Nine isn`t enough.

``I`ll go for double digits,`` Martina Navratilova said, ``why not?``

Navratilova had not forgotten what to do with the giant golden saucer that goes to the ladies singles champion of Wimbledon, though she had not had to handle one for three years, not since the arrival of Steffi Graf.

Curtsy. Take the platter from the plastic duchess. Smile. Hold it over your head for the photographers. Smile. Parade around all 12 sides of Centre Court. Try not to look too smug because you have nine of these and they have none. Kiss the trophy. Smile.

All of it worked, as it has so often since it began in 1978, when the first victim was Chris Evert. As it had the four other times Evert had to wait out the ritual, as did Andrea Jaeger, Hana Mandlikova, Steffi Graf and now Zina Garrison.

Like riding a bicycle or, in this case, a Rolls Royce, you never forget how. No one has ever had to do it more often than Navratilova.

Protocol forbade any speeches, even on this day, the day of the record, the day Navratilova passed Helen Wills Moody and became Wimbledon`s greatest champion.

Tears have come before, in winning and in losing. Navratilova has always been softer than her armor. She is a flint-covered marshmallow.

This time, Navratilova threw in a new wrinkle, one that she borrowed from Australian Pat Cash. She climbed into the stands to hug those closest to her- her coach, Craig Kardon; her idol, Billie Jean King; her companion, Judy Nelson, as well as Nelson`s son and Nelson`s mother.

If this is not the nuclear family Cash celebrated with, it is what passes for one with Navratilova. Her life is an open book. In fact, it was a best-seller for a while.

``I wanted to share the moment with the people who have been in the trenches with me,`` Navratilova said.

She may have been inclined to give in to her first impulse, to say goodbye after what even she admits is an incredible achievement. At 33, Navratilova is the oldest female champion since 1914 and fourth oldest of all time.

``This tops it all,`` she said.

Garrison said that Navratilova told her after the match that this would be her last Wimbledon.

``I hope she wasn`t lying,`` Garrison said. ``Now that I`ve seen the trophy up close, I can`t wait to get one.``

Somewhere between the euphoria of match point and the reality of the marketplace, Navratilova must have realized that grand gestures are not good business. She said she meant that Garrison wouldn`t have to play her the next time in the final.

Nine-time winners can say anything they want. And Navratilova did.

She had advice for Ivan Lendl, her doomed countryman (``Be more flexible.``) Sympathy for Graf (``None of what`s happening to her is her fault.``) And a wish to meet the 85-year-old Moody (``I had the itch once to stop by her house in Carmel but didn`t want to impose.``)

Getting the record was a fixation for Navratilova. Everything was planned to peak on this Saturday, whether it was Graf, Garrison or Lady Godiva across the net from her. It would not have mattered.

``She`s amazing,`` Garrison said. ``She really believes that this is her court and nobody can take it from her.``

Navratilova`s excellence was as monotonous as elevator music. She was as resilient as English bread.